lady shaye's guide to incessant shipping of daroline
by Lady Shaye
Summary: A bunch of Daroline drabbles, all based on a line from a song and at a minimum of 100 words. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hi, guys! So, since I've been horrible at updating lately, this is my apology - all the drabbles I've written lately when I had the spare time. All of them are centered around Daroline, though some are sad and some are happy. They're all at least one hundred words, though some are more, but I still classify them as drabbles. I hope you enjoy them, and please believe that there will be several chapters, usually with two a chapter.

* * *

_w__rap my arms around you and snap every bone in your back – Summer Camp, "I Want You"_

She's crushed to his chest and she forgets why she ever didn't _want_ this. His breath, hot on her neck; lips, firm on skin; touch, fierce on her body; tongue, tracing designs into her shoulder where he once sank teeth into frail flesh.

Now, she's strong enough to return what's taken. She crushes fingers, snaps teeth with kisses, cracks his spine once with aggressive embraces—he tells her to be gentler ("_I know we're vampires but _try_ to act human_").

_You don't understand_, she thinks numbly. _You're the one that made me this way._

She loves (hates, hurts) him harder.

* * *

_almost forgot the pins in my heart – Meg Hutchinson, "Leonids"_

He finds the picture from that old Founder's Party. She's dolled up—not in the yellow dress he hated, because _she_ was _always_ doing everything for _him_ and his compelling eyes—and he looks like he doesn't care.

(At the time, he didn't.)

It scares him, how little he cared then and how much he does now. How much he's wrapped around her finger…but now, she's gone.

He keeps the photo in his pocket during the funeral (hers) and tries to forget how _he_ was the one who broke _her _heart—not the other way around, right?

(His chest hurts.)

* * *

A/N: Yeah, so I ended on a sad note. Sorry. The next chapter will be up soon- there are tons of these from the last few months! Please tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Yay for another chapter!

Disclaimer: Because I'm terrible, I didn't add one of these last chapter. Hopefully this disclaimer can extend through the entire series. But I don't own.

* * *

_i could beg a thousand times – Emilie Autumn, "If I Burn"_

"Please don't," she pleads, but it changes nothing. She can ask, beg, hope—but it never helps.

He just smirks at her—long, slow, steamy—and reveals fangs. They gleam in silvery moonlight, and she remembers the first time she clearly_ saw_ them, in early morning light as he scented dried blood on her pillow and neck. Now, they're already stained with her.

(He'll have to brush his teeth later, to clean her life force off. He always says he dislikes the lingering taste—but then, why does he keep coming back?)

He bites.

No matter what, she always screams.

* * *

_who will lead, who will follow – Janelle Monae, "Say You'll Go"_

"I have got to get _out_ of this town," Damon groans, leaning back in his chair and mumbling to himself about doppelgangers and curses and fucking aneurysms, downing his bourbon.

Caroline hands him another. "I'll go with you," she offers, tucking hair behind her ear shyly; she'd be blushing if possible. (Why does she always return to a teen mindset around him?)

He lifts an eyebrow, doubles back, really _looks _at her. "Seriously?" he asks, curious, seeing certainty in her eyes. "Why?"

She scoffs. "You're Damon. I'm Caroline. Lead on. We've always known we'd follow each other around for eternity."

* * *

A/N: The second one happens to be my least favorite in the entire collection of drabbles, but oh well. Might as well add it.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Enjoy!

* * *

_take it all now, my dear – K's Choice, "Killing Dragons"_

His kisses bring her to her knees with passion; she promises to always let him back into her life (he doesn't even have to ask). Stefan watches silently from the porch, resignation radiating from his very _bones_. Damon leaves her in a kneeling position on the hard winter ground, a hand to her head in farewell—a heavy warm welcome weight—and a swift unfeeling kiss. A rush of wind, and he's gone (again). She gathers herself like always, forces herself up the steps.

Stefan leans back, sighing, and she joins him on the porch swing of their newest home. "Elena will be back soon," he says, wedding ring shining in soft gray fading dusk-light.

Her empty eyes (she doesn't have enough left in her to cry anymore, she's too used to this) fade, lose some more life and color in the twilight. She is silent, like she always is after Damon leaves. (He takes that much out of her—she _offers_ that much, and more, willingly. She's his babydoll once more.)

"One day, he'll take too much from you," Stefan sighs, and leaves. She knows. But it's a cycle that's meant to last forever.

(Maybe he already has anyway.)

* * *

_they should have warned you – Band of Horses, "No One's Ever Gonna Love You"_

_OR, in which Caroline freaks out while crying on Damon in "Brave New World"_

"You should have warned me!" she rages, sobbing into his shoulder. There's a body behind her, and the carnival looks goddamn awful, and there's a nurse somewhere with a bloody butterfly bandage on her throat telling people about her kinky husband.

"I know," he says, soothing her with a heavy hand to her back, and her hair is in her face and she feels _messy_ with all this blood in her mouth and on her jaw. "I know.

"Sometimes we don't get a warning, Blondie," he says, and that's when he tries to put a stake in her back.

_Asshole._

* * *

A/N: I hope you liked it!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Well, these two are quite bitter. Yuuuuup. So. Enjoy.

* * *

_life's bitter wine and childish behavior – Ed Sheeran, "Smile"_

Blood becomes her wine.

National parks are her safety-net, protecting her from those would find the drained bodies._ The government would have fun figuring _that _one out, as they dig up redwoods and corpses_.

All along he watches, worries, tries to discover how to save her (when she knows his priority is always Elena).

He hides her shovel. "You're behaving like a child," she states, finding him burying it (like a corpse).

"You're the one making me act this way," he says.

"No, _you_ were the one that made me _become_ this." Bittersweet smile: vague, truthful.

He can't deny it.

* * *

_all these promises you left for me – Bob Dylan, "Absolutely Sweet Marie"_

_One day I will give up on Elena. I'll be yours._

Lies, and more lies.

_ One day you'll be my vampire queen._

God, how could she have been so _stupid?_

_One day I will come back for you…and your pretty blue eyes…and your beautiful little body…and your gorgeous enticing lips…_

What an asshole, leaving behind promises that he couldn't keep.

_You are the only stupid thing here. And shallow. And useless. _

Oh. _There's_ something he said that he really believed in. And now she knows it's true.

Goddamnit, why doesn't she _ever_ learn to _never_ believe in Damon Salvatore's promises?


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I love Nina Simone like a lot. Just ignore me.

* * *

_he doesn't know it, but he needs me – Nina Simone, "He Needs Me"_

She finds him in her bedroom, casually lying down, ankles crossed and arms behind his head. Just waiting.

"Damon! What are you doing here?" she barely manages to keep from screaming.

"Thought you might have missed me," he says, and the touch of arrogance isn't said but it's _there_.

"Of course," she snorts.

And if he pulls her in beside him like old times, she won't protest.

And if he tells her he wants her for one night, she won't argue.

(Though she knows it's more like he _needs _her. But it's just for tonight.)

Maybe she needs him, too.

* * *

_don't know how much I care – Jagged Edge, "Promise"_

He sends her off with a warning against Lockwood (again), hoping this time it will find her brain. They definitely aren't besties since she Turned, but she should take a warning from somebody who _knows _her. (Knows every single thing, in fact.)

He knows her favorite pastimes and favorite blood type and zodiac sign and slight obsession with blue.

And how is it possible to _not_ care about Caroline Forbes when you _know_ her better than anybody? Better than her parents, best friends?

If it is possible, he doesn't know how. Because goddamn, does he care.

It just isn't enough.

* * *

A/N: I just wanted to say that for anyone who doesn't like season 1 Damon's relationship with Caroline that I will write a lot about that. I don't ignore that part of their lives and I don't make it pretty. I write a lot of angst, and I'm sorry if that's not your thing, but unfortunately if it isn't then you might not want to stop reading because I rarely indulge in fluff. I love Damon and Caroline's characters but I don't ignore the way he treated her and I don't make it look better than it was. However, if you continue to read and you're dissatisfied then I doubt that leaving a rude review will make you feel better. It just makes you look mean. Thanks, readers!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Enjoy!

* * *

_all your secrets in the sheets – Melissa Etheridge, "Sympathy"_

She staggers down hospital corridors, remembering secrets he told her in the privacy of bedsheets and compulsion.

"_I loved a girl named Katherine._"

She cannot breathe. Her mouth, dry; gums, stinging; and air is gone, like when Elena smothered her and she couldn't reach the god_damn_ button.

"_Still do._"

She cannot reason; mind blank, empty, screaming at her to think—but she c_an't_.

"_You're a replacement. Shallow, selfish, but _mine_ while she isn't._"

She cannot see, eyes refusing to obey.

"_I'll never love you._"

Her mouth hurts. _Fangs?_

"_I miss being human."_

So does _she_.

_ What the hell __**is**__ she_?

* * *

_our story isn't ready for an ending – Chris August, "Don't Close the Door"_

She isn't angry, not like he expected her to be. Just…resigned.

Barbie's never been what he predicted—and that's part of why she's perfect for him, he thinks, or tries to think. His mind is in a daze. Is she shutting the door on him?

He blocks it. She looks down at his shoe, then back up at him, barely stifling indignant anger and a bit of curiosity. (He still sees both.)

"Please don't end this," he says. "We started off badly. We just got worse from there. And then you made me better. You make me _want_ to be better. It wasn't like Elena. It's different, when I'm with you. I don't have to be so bad. You gave us a good middle. But," and he takes a deep breath, because he's never liked being vulnerable, "we're not ready for an ending just yet."

She lets him back inside.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I hope you guys like these two, they're kinda bittersweet and in the second one Caroline is anti-Damon.

* * *

_and now you're gonna lie – Ashanti, "Rain On Me"_

"I love _you_," she reassures (_lies_), stressing _love_ for emphasis. "I'll always choose you."

He weakly smiles.

And then Stefan comes in the room and Elena smiles at him, almost reflexively. Damon hurts inside again.

She chose Stefan first, remember? She's going to choose him again, someday soon. He knows it.

Blondie watches from the background, uncomfortable because she never even liked triangles when it was pre-algebra, much less the whole Tyler-Klaus-Barbie thing she's dealing with. Now she has to watch the Salvatore-Elena triangle too.

But there's nothing either of them can do.

Elena keeps denying (lying). They keep hurting.

* * *

_don't want to be this woman the second time around – Ashanti, "Rain On Me (Remix)"_

_A/N: This song was so good I had to use it twice. _

She awakens, freezes when she finds him next to her on the bed, bare of everything except his ring and her (really way too translucent) sheets, which only cover his waist and downwards (thank God for that much, at least).

He doesn't stir. She prays again. Once more, she's caught in this position, hoping that he won't wake.

(God, this is like a recurring theme. Stupid vulnerable girl falls for mysterious charmer, ends up in bed with him, finds him to be a bastard.)

Except now she should know better.

(So why doesn't she?)

He turns in his sleep, making a satisfied noise as he curls an arm around her waist, his face in her hair. She's petrified, frozen.

(Hasn't she grown or changed at all?)

She exhales slowly. She can do this.

(Is she really going to go through this again?)

Fuck this. She's a vampire. He can't hurt her anymore.

(Why is she still somehow afraid of him? Just a little bit?)

He's out the window, tossed by his ear, clothes falling out after him, before he's even fully awake. Sitting on the ground, confused and thrown off.

(He won't—can't—hurt her anymore. _Ever again._)

She smiles.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, so, the last one is very extremely dysfunctional Daroline, but I wanted Caroline to get a little revenge. :D


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Both of these are kinda long.

* * *

_somewhere we went wrong, we were once so strong – Demi Lovato, "Did You Forget"_

"You _abused _me, Damon!" she repeats. "Hurt, manipulated, and bit me!"

"That's all you remember?" he asks, and there's some sort of vulnerability there but he won't (he will never ever) recognize it, and she's too angry to notice.

(This is her main point in every single argument between them.)

"That's all I need," she sneers. (She's doing it perfectly—been spending too much time around him, he thinks.)

"You don't remember me making you laugh or smile, or listening to your little control-freak neurotic rants, or dancing with you, or ordering girly drinks at the Grille for you despite weird stares?" he asks. "You don't remember calling me sweet and _believing _it? You don't remember the day I made you breakfast and you were late for school because you wanted to 'thank' me?"

She turns scarlet, looks down. "You _would _make this about sex," mumbles Caroline.

"Not my point. Did you forget those moments?" he presses. Because for some godforsaken reason, this is _important_ to him.

"I guess so," she states flatly, still not meeting his eyes, and he _knows_ that she still has the memories somewhere deep inside. She won't acknowledge them. "Why, was it important that I remembered?"

He lets her walk away. "It was to me," he says, when he's finally sure that she's gone.

He remembers what he thought when she was human and he made her forget. It was a routine that he had to go through (still wishes he hadn't).

(_Don't forget. Please._)

* * *

_if I told you a secret – Travis, "Love Will Come Through"_

They're tipsy in the boardinghouse, sitting on the livingroom couch, drinking shots, mourning exes and getting drunk over memories. "Tell me a secret," he says suddenly, swaying slightly in his position. (He's a random drunk, she's found. He started dancing all sexylike twenty minutes ago on the staircase—hips swinging, pelvic thrusts. It was hot.)

She thinks (which is hard to do in their state). "I always wanted to dye my hair red," she giggles.

"How's that a secret?" he smirks.

"I don't know, I never told anybody. Everybody talks about my blondeness like it's the most defining thing about me. Even you do it, calling me Blondie," she grins playfully. "Now, c'mon, your turn. Gimme a secret."

He's quiet for a long moment. "I miss being human," he finally sighs. "More than anything."

Caroline waits. Unsurely places a hand on his legs, which are crossed at the ankles. Moves closer and whispers in his ear, "Me too."

His eyes are frozen on her mouth, and he kisses her, passionately, without warning. Maybe because he needs this temporary solution to the pain of immortality.

(And because she needs it too, she kisses back.)

The next day, she finds a package on her bed, hand-delivered, window curtains fluttering (she didn't leave them open). It's a bottle of red hair dye. The note says: _Your hair is definitely not your most important feature. You have great lips too. Friday, 7, boardinghouse. –D._

She starts reading the instructions, and just can't stop smiling.

* * *

A/N: Hope you liked them!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Yay! More drabbles!

* * *

_it's like you're in between every heartbeat – JLS, "In Between Every Heartbeat"_

The carnival is a freaking _disaster_, probably. Matt is looking at her funny. The hospital won't let her go until later, at daybreak. Her mother hasn't even visited her yet. She needs more blood, soon.

And she can't even bother to _care_ about any of that, because Damon Salvatore is trapped in between every breath, every second, every time her heart _should_ be beating but _isn't_. Memories of him smiling at her, ordering her around, being sweet, being a total complete bastard. Being what she wanted, needed, hated, loved.

She can't stop thinking about him, remembering him.

This officially sucks.

* * *

_you will suck the life out of me – Muse, "Time is Running Out"_

"Damon," she gasps, back arching as he kisses the hollow of her throat (his favorite spot, just above her collarbone).

"Shh," he murmurs between kisses, casually. "I'm trying to be sweet, remember. Let me."

Her eyes soften—for once, he's kinda trying, and sorta succeeding. Because of course Damon's idea of sweetness is to throw her down on her bed and kiss the very life out of her. "Thank you, Damon," she says honestly, and giggles as he starts licking his way down her skin.

When it's over and they're lying on the bed, halfway exhausted and somewhat deliriously satisfied, he says contentedly, "Okay, I'm over and done with being sweet. C'mere, you," he teases.

She giggles again, forgets what that all-knowing smile on his face means (she's forgetting everything these days, _haha_), and curls herself up in his arms.

He bites just below her collarbone, and she gives a soft laugh when he takes her skin between his teeth and licks it, a sick but almost funny reinterpretation of what he did earlier. When the blood starts, she doesn't care. Not when he's giving her blood in return and the world feels and looks so much clearer, brighter and insanely beautiful.

She sometimes feels that one day she will disappear completely and it will be all his fault, because she will just become a part of him: the blood bank girlfriend that never leaves because she can't go anywhere on her own without permission, and he's okay with letting her stay.

But she's nearly too happy to care, because he wants to go to the Founder's Party _with her_ and she's terribly excited. The yellow dress looked less pretty anyway.

(She's never felt more beautiful as she walks in on his arm.)

That's right before he nearly kills her.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I love Christina Perri, so here's two of her songs! I definitely recommend listening to her.

* * *

_how many times will you let me change my mind – Christina Perri, "Arms"_

The first time, he leaves her in the Grille, imperfect and useless to him. She takes him back, years later when she's everything he needs.

The second time is in Rome in autumn, and she is wearing his favorite scarf of hers. He gets scared, for absolutely no reason.

She stares as he packs. Doesn't beg, doesn't cry, doesn't do anything except _watch._

But he drops his bag on the sidewalk seven minutes later (just leaves it there) and runs back to her apartment (not _theirs _anymore, because he's an idiot). And he knocks and she opens with a blinding brilliant smile (she doesn't let him see her cry over it, though her eyes _do_ get awfully shiny) and he wonders if she'll always do this.

If she'll always let him back inside her life.

Or if she'll eventually cut her losses and find someone better, like she deserves.

She holds him closer than usual in bed that night, warm and tight, and doesn't let go, even in sleep. He watches her still body, cradling it carefully, praying that he'll always have this perfect view.

(But maybe she'll continue to always let him back into her arms. He hopes so.)

* * *

_say I love you when you're not listening – Christina Perri, "Distance"_

"Stay away from me," she taunts him, twirling like a gazelle, all graceful and mile-long legs. (Hottest gazelle he's ever seen, though that's more Stefan's forte than his.)

"Try to stop me," he snarls, and his face changes, vampire style.

Hers does too, and the next thing she knows, he's leaping and tossing her down and they're tumbling and he's on top of her and she's on her back and he forgot how _warm_ she was. They're breathing softly and suddenly, wondering if this is a dream (it's too good to be true), his hands wrapped around her wrists (just like old times) and his face a few mere inches from hers. So close they could kiss.

She starts to lean forward, ever-so-slowly. (All this time, they've been saying _I love you_ when the other couldn't hear it.)

That's how Elena finds them: almost kissing. "Damon, I need your help," she says, trying to ignore his position. "It's about Stefan. Please."

Damon Salvatore always plays pretend, trying to be a big bad vampire when he's really a protective big brother with bad decisions following him around. "Fine," he says reluctantly. "But just so you know, I was_ so_ gonna get some before you walked in."

"You were not," Caroline whispers in his ear. He gets up off of her and she massages her wrists (his grip is not quite as tight as she remembers from her human days, but still plenty firm enough) and he smirks even harder, if possible.

"_So_ was," he murmurs back, where Elena can't hear. (It means _I love you._)

"Go suck a bunny." (_You love Elena._)

"Think I'll leave that one to Stefan." (_That's my little brother's job now._)

She smiles. "Yeah. Can we practice again sometime?" (_I love you too._)

Smirking, "Yeah." (_Tomorrow I'm gonna make you scream and next time Elena won't be around to stop me._)

(Maybe she slightly misinterprets the last one, but it's probably closer to right than wrong.)

He stalks off. She admires it—she may hate to see him go, but, God, she loves to watch him leave.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Yay for sadness! Unrequited love from both sides.

* * *

_you could love me if I knew how to lie – Panic! At The Disco, "She Had The World"_

She dyes her hair for him. Dark autumn, like fall, as close to Elena's brown that her skin will allow her. Colored contacts. Spray-ons. The works. Because she's desperate for some sort of goddamn _acknowledgement_, and he's blind to anything but Elena.

It lasts for a week at most, and then she's back to blonde, regular skin tone, blue eyes, _her_ singular clothing style.

She's Caroline Forbes, and she's never really learned how to lie properly. Maybe if she could, he'd love her for trying. Maybe he'd notice her, at the least.

She'd take anything she could get from him.

* * *

_sick hearts do fine with wasting their time – The Used, "Sick Hearts"_

It's quite possible that he is the stupidest, most clueless person alive (or undead). Wasting a hundred and fifty years over a lover who never returned, and then another few years over her doppelganger, who never admitted to herself that she had anything to return _to_. (At least Katherine could recognize that she gave a damn about him at some point in their past.)

But never has he truly spent any time at all on Caroline Forbes. (It would never be a waste.)

"You're a dumbass," is all that Stefan says when he moans and bitches.

"She wouldn't have said no," Bonnie points out when she guesses with her witchy powers or whatever. "She's a very forgiving person. Too late, Salvatore. Your fault."

Elena just stares at him, shocked. "You _like_ Caroline?" Very slowly, very disbelievingly.

Caroline herself never knows. She never guesses or finds out or even suspects that he might, just maybe, regret his actions. That he could, quite possibly, be inclined to get down on his knees and beg her forgiveness and maybe a second chance—every time he sees her.

Maybe it's for the best, because she deserves better than a sick, stupid heart like his.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: The first one is a little silly. So is the second one. Sorry.

* * *

_last dance for love – Donna Summer, "Last Dance"_

"You know, we've never danced," she mentions casually. It's the last Mystic Falls event that she will ever attend—she's leaving tomorrow to be Klaus's pet for a hundred years. By force, but it will save their lives and that's all she's ever wanted.

(_You can argue that Bonnie and Elena are selfless_, he thinks, _and that's true, but look at _her_. Look at this girl, giving up a century when her besties won't live for another seventy years, probably_.)

"Yeah, so what, Blondie?" Even now, he's so cold—he can't let her know how _lost_ they (he) will all be without her (the sunlight, the rain, the _everything _they (he) need).

She smiles. "Let's?"

Casual smirk, as though he won't miss her more than air, more than humanity. "Why not." (Not a question.)

Donna Summer comes on, and he bows and offers his hand, gentlemanly, palm outstretched. She laughs at his formality, curtsies in her skintight revealing bloodred off-the-shoulder dress, and takes it—he'd forgotten how smooth her skin is under his. The low sad music turns jovial and upbeat, but he takes her in his arms as though it's a couple dance—and damn it all, it will be for them—and she rests her head on his shoulder and he inhales the scent of her hair, and blood, and cleanness and softness and brightness and caring. (Everything that she is, a perfect combination.)

It's their first dance. And their last one. (For now.)

She smiles at him when it's over and she pulls away from his touch, and Klaus is standing behind her and they are standing in the Mystic Falls town square as the music goes on and his life is being sucked away from him and the music crescendos (what an upbeat accompaniment to what might be the most depressing moment in his life) and Klaus is smirking. He kind of maybe wants to rip the Original's cocky throat out.

"See you in a hundred years," she mouths, where Klaus can't see, and he feels the edge of a smirk coming over his lips.

"See you," he repeats out loud, and Klaus quirks an eyebrow but says nothing.

She leans forward and up (not very far in her high red heels) and kisses the edge of his mouth, whispering as the music ends, "Next time, I expect a more…romantic, couple-y song."

And then they're gone.

* * *

_everything can wait except the way we feel – Joe Nichols, "This Bed's Too Big"_

"It's our honeymoon," he whines, halfway sitting up, propped on his elbows like a lazy lover, which he is.

"Yeah," she retorts. "But we're in _Brazil_. I wanna go out and see everything. The people, the landmarks, the museums. We're only here for the weekend."

He looks her up and down hungrily, and she would blush if it were possible (he seems to bring that reaction out of her a lot). "Babe, it's our _honeymoon_. I don't know how to stress that _enough._ It's a time for _ravaging_, my love."

The way he says _my love_ makes her shiver in anticipation, but can she really back down from this and keep her pride intact? No. "I wanna see," she argues stubbornly.

Damon sighs. "Carebear, honey, we can stay here for a year if you like. If you haven't noticed, we're not exactly lacking money. C'mere, let me do my best to destroy that impossibly lovely lingerie you have on."

"Damon," she giggles, despite herself.

"What? You, me, and ghostly remains of past lingerie all know that that particular type of clothing doesn't really have a long-lasting life span around you and me." He flashes her that charming grin of his. "C'mon, babe. I'm gonna ruin that nightie." She doesn't move from the door. "_C'mere_," he growls teasingly, standing, and she comes, like an obedient little good girl. _Screw her pride._

He kisses her, and she squirms out of his passionate embrace. "Care," he complains, but she ducks out of his arms.

"I wanna at least go see Manaus Opera House. And maybe the Copacabana Beach."

"Fine," he dismisses easily with a wave of his hand. "Come on, Mrs. Salvatore, time for bed."

She lets herself be drawn into his arms, content. _Mrs. Salvatore._ She could really get used to that.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: The last chapter, for now. We'll see if more come!

* * *

_l__ay them before you like reasons – Scott Walker, "Duchess"_

"One: I'm hot."

"Why am I even here."

"Two: You think you're hot."

"Common knowledge, Blondie."

"Three: We would be awesome together. Four: You'd fall out of love with Elena."

"That's it, I'm leaving. This is pointless."

"Sit the fuck down. I'm not done yet. Five: We'd be the talk of the town."

"This town has nothing to talk about. That doesn't mean anything."

"Sh. Six: You like sex, I like sex. Ergo, seven: great sex together."

"Been there, done that."

Sigh. "Never mind. Leave."

"Barbie?" Looks back at her. "Finish the list and tell me again. Maybe I'll listen."

* * *

_ashamed to be afraid – Jennifer Warnes, "Pretending to Care"_

She invites him in without thinking about it. Her mom would disapprove. (That's half the reason she does it.)

"Nice place," he mumbles around her lips, and she forces his mouth to meld with hers, hands placed firmly on either side of his face to hold him there. They stumble up the stairs. And sure, maybe he's only here because he's hot and she's insecure and Stefan turned her down today, but…

Well. He _is_ hot. Even if he does make her slightly uneasy. Slightly…scared.

And that's before he even pulls the fangs out, which is when she really screams.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Or, two times Caroline was in love with Damon and he never knew.

* * *

_just another pretty lie – Demi Lovato, "Here We Go Again"_

He kisses her, makes Elena cringe, makes Matt glance away sadly. (Both not wanting to realize that they might be in love with "monsters.")

She kisses back, tries to force him into making it more passionate, but at best all he can summon is a few makeout sessions. Barely any tongue. He, this bad boy, is all she ever secretly wanted, except the boy that she _knows_ will be perfect for her is only a few feet away, staring at them by the pool table while he's holding his forgotten cue in hand. Tyler forces him back into the game, and there they are, both watching her, both lusting after the same girl while watching her kiss Salvatore.

Elena latches onto Stefan, tries to forget about the brother that used to bore holes into her and now instead makes out with her best friend in public. (Lots of people watch. Mystic Falls, if you haven't noticed, is pretty weird.)

Caroline wants it to be real, wants for them to actually try to get over their respective love interests (by being with each other), but she knows that's not the truth. They're really doing this to get their crushes (a more teenage term as opposed to _epic loves_ or whatever) to clue in and get jealous enough to say something.

He cups the back of her head, forces her to kiss harder.

The most believable lie she's ever told: that they're in love. (And a beautiful one, too, however brief. It's halfway true.)

* * *

_did the wrong thing to the right girl – The Maine, "Right Girl"_

She sighs when he sits next to her horizontal form. "What do you want?"

"Heard Tyler bit you. Wanted to… say I'm sorry." He bites his lip. "I know what it feels like."

"Yeah, well, mine appears to be worse than yours, according to my mom. I'm already hallucinating." She laughs bitterly. "How about that?"

He nods. "I'm sorry. For what I did. We were right, but I did wrong things to you." He traces his thumb along her jaw. "I'm sorry this can't be real."

He disappears, and she realizes he was a hallucination.

_Why can't I die faster?_


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to **thewasabipea**, so, sorry if it sucks, dear.

* * *

_you, the only one who knew me – Everclear, "Breakfast at Tiffany's"_

_A/N: So, I was discussing one day with thewasabipea how one of my favorite head-canons is about Caroline knowing _everything_ about Damon from when he compelled her…and so this was born, out of practically nothing but a coffee and fingers itching to type something._

"Leave me alone," he snaps when he sees her coming.

She sits next to him on the barstools. "No."

Sigh. "Why the hell not?"

"Because you need somebody around right now. I know how you get."

He huffs, snorting through his alcohol—which is kinda hard, but he's had _decades _of practice. "Like you know anything about me but what I've let you know."

She nods seriously. "And if you'll recall, Damon dear, you told me _everything_."

"No, I didn—" Memory strikes him like lightning. _Dammit_, yes he did. When she was under compulsion and easy to manipulate into forgetting all these secrets that he had to tell _somebody_ before he went insane (if he's not already).

She grins, long and slow, and he understands the cruelty of a knowing smirk now. "Yup. Now quit torturing Stefan and Bonnie and pretty much the whole town, or I'll tell everybody about the time that you wore pink leather pants to a Melissa Etheridge concert. I found that picture in the boardinghouse, it's my evidence."

He blinks. She _knows_ about that? (When did he tell her _that_?) "She sang 'Similar Features' and 'You Can Sleep While I Drive.' And they weren't _my_ pants," he defends.

"That affects my leverage _how_, exactly?"

"Um."

"Yeah."

"Dammit."

She laughs, flounces off her barstool, and he finds himself smiling wistfully as she exits. Well. Maybe he _does _need someone around during these moods. Or maybe he should narrow that down, specifically, to only Caroline Forbes.

* * *

_your hands found me like an architect – Anne Sexton's poem, "The Breast"_

He builds her up and knocks her down, fitting her to his needs.

("Please take me." _I want to be seen with you_, she imagines his meaning to be, when the reality is _so_ much different.)

("—the only stupid thing here. And shallow, and useless." _What he really felt_.)

She is like his skyscraper that he can never be satisfied with; he's constantly remaking her to fit what he wants. He tries to kill her because he's trying to be like his brother to get Elena to want him; he's trying to be Caroline's killer just as Stefan killed Vicki for the good of the town. (He misjudges how much Elena values friendship.)

Then, out of nowhere, he saves her from Klaus and some sort of ritual, all so he can _remain_ in Elena's good graces for as long as possible. Caroline is just another toy to him. And she can't help but let herself be his Barbie doll, because God knows he still knows how to make her blush with just a look. He can still make her _react_.

Now, after so long, his hands are firm on her hips, soothingly stroking down her waist as she moans. He lowers his head down to her stomach and rests it there, precious and heavy and deliciously warm against her navel. She sighs, contented with the calming weight on her middle, and she's halfway asleep before he whispers into her skin: cool breath causing chill bumps to rise, making her shiver, making her _yearn_.

"I want to rebuild this," he mumbles.

"What?" she whispers. He and Elena have been over for a long time, and his relationship with Caroline has always been strained at best, but they've been trying to be…a couple. At least, she thinks that they have.

"_Us_," he replies, and he promptly falls back to sleep without another word.

She giggles at the sound of him lightly snoring from his sideways position on her lower half, and thinks that she will let him be her architect. She will be his first success. And he will be hers.


End file.
